


Phone Home

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [46]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Trip has a tough question about particle physics, he asks his mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phone Home

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            "Unfortunately"—and you could tell this was a painful admission—"this level of particle physics is outside my area of expertise," T'Pol informed them.

            Archer wasn't in the mood to tease her about her deficiencies. "There must be someone on board who knows this stuff," he insisted, pacing around the console.

            "Not according to the personnel records," T'Pol corrected. Archer gave her a look that said, _Don't just shoot down all my suggestions, make some of your own!_ "Perhaps I could analyze the data and suggest a possible solution by using the information in our scientific database. But it would take some time." And the results would be dubious, her tone added.

            "We gotta have the answer pretty soon, Captain," Trip reminded him unnecessarily. "And I don't think we're gonna get too many chances to get it right."

            "What if we could call back to Earth, have a particle physicist there walk us through this?" Archer tossed out desperately.

            Marcus frowned. "How would we know who we could trust, sir? We're not exactly supposed to be in this region of space, after all." A slow grin began to spread, unnoticed, across Trip's face.

            "If Hoshi could scramble the signal—" Archer tried.

            "I believe the very content of our questions would give away our general position," T'Pol pointed out. "And were this person to inform Starfleet Command—"

            She didn't need to finish that sentence. Admiral Forrest had given Archer a lot of latitude on his mission—but there were some things Forrest just didn't need to be dragged into. At least, not until they'd gotten favorable results.

            Trip let the dejected, brain-racking silence go on for just a moment or two. Then he commented with a smirk, "Well, I know what _I_ do when I have a question about particle physics I can't answer."

            "And what is that, Commander?" T'Pol asked, sounding a bit put-upon.

            "I ask my mom." Marcus rolled his eyes, clearly wishing the Chief Engineer would come up with something more helpful to say. Archer, however, widened his eyes in delighted surprise.

            Poking at her console, T'Pol missed the Captain's expression. "And is your mother a particle physicist, Commander Tucker?" she asked icily.

            Trip tone was suitably smug. "Yes."

            T'Pol did a double-take—Vulcan-style, so it was very brief, but Archer and Trip were watching for it. "She is," the First Officer said, not quite making it a question.

            "Twenty-five years, Florida State University," Trip replied proudly. "Retired now, of course."

            "And you believe she can be trusted?" Marcus asked seriously.

            Trip goggled at him. "She's my _mom_!" The security officer looked at him as if to say, _So?_

            Archer had no doubts about Mrs. Tucker's—er, Dr. Tucker's—trustworthiness. "Hoshi, call her up," he ordered. "Be sure to _apologize_ to her for the inconvenience, Trip," he added.

 

            "We're going to talk to Ma?!" Mal exclaimed, bouncing around Engineering excitedly. " _I_ want to talk to Ma!"

            "Maybe just for a minute," Trip warned, calling up diagrams on his panel. "We've got work to do, buddy."

            The comm beeped. " _I've got her, Commander_ ," Hoshi reported pleasantly. " _By the way, your dad's kinda cute_."

            "Runs in the family, Ensign," Trip pointed out, keying up the comm screen.

            His mother appeared and Trip couldn't help but smile. It seemed like ages since he had seen her last, although she had sent a recording of her prize-winning herb garden just the week before. "Hi, Ma."

            Her expression was troubled. " _Well, hello there, baby. Is anything wrong?_ "

            "No, Ma, I'm okay," he assured her.

            " _Is Mal alright?_ "

            "I'm right here, Ma!" Mal announced, hopping into the frame. "Can you hear me, Ma? Can you see me?" He practically had his nose pressed against the screen.

            Trip shoved him aside. "He's fine. Listen, Ma, we got a little problem on the ship—a particle physics problem. Think you can help us out?"

            " _Well, I'll sure try, baby,_ " Mrs. Tucker promised, and Trip wondered if he could tactfully ask her to _not_ call him 'baby' in front of the senior staff. " _But what's all this 'secure channel' nonsense?_ " Trip squirmed a bit and his mother recognized the expression immediately. " _Charles Tucker, are you up to something you shouldn't be?_ "

            " _I'm just havin' a beer in the kitchen!_ " an indignant voice protested, drifting out from another room.

            " _The_ Third," Ma clarified pointedly.

            "Is that Pop? I want to talk to Pop!" Mal demanded. "Hello, Pop!"

            Trip shoved him aside again. "It's okay, Ma, really," he insisted. She didn't look like she was buying it, so he switched strategies. "It's Jon's fault, really. You gotta ask _him_ about it."

            Mrs. Tucker sighed. " _Alright, what do you need?_ "

            "Great, thanks, Ma!" Trip enthused. "I'm just gonna send you some data, okay? Then I'm gonna patch you in with the Captain and our Science Officer…"

            " _Oh, goodness me,_ " Mrs. Tucker fluttered. " _Good thing I put my face on for church today._ " She narrowed her eyes at Trip. " _Did_ you _get to church today, son?_ "

            "No, he didn't!" Mal reported gleefully, taking over the monitor while Trip worked. "Isn't he _wicked_? Say, do you want to see my new tooth, Ma?" Mal stretched his lip out and pointed to the tooth in question with his tongue. "Dr. Phlox gave it to me after the old one got knocked out in a fight. I _swallowed_ it—isn't that horrible?"

            " _That sure is, baby,_ " Ma agreed sympathetically. " _What were you doin', getting into a fight anyway?_ "

            "Oh, we were on this planet with these horrible aliens called the—"

            "Classified," Trip coughed in the background.

            "—well, I can't really tell you, Ma," Mal amended quickly. "But isn't my new tooth nice? It doesn't do anything special, though. I thought, if I had to get a new tooth, it should be able to shoot a laser beam or a grappling hook or something—"

            "And that's enough from you," Trip decided, yanking Mal out of the picture.

            "Bye, Ma! I love you!" Mal called from somewhere far to the left of the screen.

            " _I love you, too, dear_ ," Mrs. Tucker assured him.

            " _Are you speaking to me?_ " T'Pol cut in with bemusement.

            Trip rolled his eyes. "No, she was talkin' to Mal. Ma, this is our Science Officer, Commander T'Pol."

            " _My goodness, I've heard so much about you, dear,_ " Mrs. Tucker remarked, and Trip went beet red, praying she wouldn't say any more.

            " _Have you_ ," T'Pol responded grimly.

            "And you know Captain Archer," Trip continued hurriedly.

            " _Hello, Jon_ ," Mrs. Tucker greeted. " _Don't you look distinguished in that uniform!_ "

            Trip snickered as Jon's captainly dignity wilted. "Anyway, Ma, here's the problem…"


End file.
